


Getting on a Treat

by ginchy



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/M, Gen, Goats, Goga, Meet-Cute, Modern AU, Yoga, but was so much fun, goat yoga, this is so silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 18:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16246946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginchy/pseuds/ginchy
Summary: Shelagh and the girls go to goat yoga. It's an experience.





	Getting on a Treat

**Author's Note:**

> I work on a college campus. A few weeks ago my student assistants informed me of 'goat yoga' taking place on campus. I thought they were kidding (ha!) with me. Turns out, it's a thing! And apparently people love it. My mind went immediately to poor goat fearing Shelagh and -- well, here we go! Thanks so fourteen-teacups and kaguyahime7 for their assistance and advice!! And thanks to weshallc for the help with that title!! Enjoy!!

Shelagh pulled her coat around her body as she hustled to keep up with Trixie’s long strides.

“We’ll meet the other girls there,” Trixie was saying, managing to look as if she owned the pavement, her blonde ponytail swishing from side to side. “It’s all the rage really, Shelagh. You’ll find that there’s nothing to be concerned with at all.”

Shelagh smoothed back her own unruly hair. “Oh, Trixie, I’m not really worried, more … cautious.” She lowered her voice. “It would seem to me that the wee beasts are slightly unsanitary.”

Trixie laughed, drawing appreciative gazes as she continued her fast pace. “They’ll be in the grass, Shelagh.” She hitched her yoga mat higher. “Though I do hope they exercise them beforehand and that any incidents of ‘an unsanitary nature’” she rolled her eyes at Shelagh, “are taken care of beforehand, too.”

“Do the goats really climb onto people’s backs?” Shelagh raised a brow. “Instead of downward dog am I to expect gravitating goat?”

Trixie laughed before waving frantically as they entered the park. “There are the girls! They saved a spot for us, just up front!”

Shelagh smiled at her colleagues, unfurling her yellow mat and removing her coat. She looked around nervously, breathing a little easier when she saw that there were not yet goats about. She wasn’t sure how Trixie had talked her into this American craze. Goat Yoga, or Goga, as Trixie had taken to calling it. We’ll get back to nature with our workout efforts, she’d said. Of course, the fact that Christopher, the dentist from the floor below their nursing practice, was interested in the class was only a slight encouragement to attend. Situating herself on the mat, Shelagh tried to imagine the goats as cute and cuddly instead of slightly wild and prone to head-butting. Their little eyes didn’t help to endear her to the creatures. They looked … knowing. Not frightening, exactly. Just not appropriate.

Barbara stowed her phone in her bag and settled next to Shelagh on her own mat. “I do so hope that a little goat will come over our way.” She looked at the crowd that was gathering around them. “Oh, but with this many people…!”

“Don’t worry, Barbara.” Trixie flashed her irrepressible smile. “Phyllis here is a goat charmer. She’ll have them all right over to us, right Phyll?”

Phyllis frowned. “I don’t know how you dragged the lot of us here, lass. Goat yoga, I ask you. What’s next? Richmond Park to cavort with the deer?”

Trixie made a face. “There’s nothing wrong with expanding our horizons. Or with a change of scenery,” she said, grin growing wider as she noticed Christopher Dockerill picking his way through yoga mats. She stepped around the group to meet him through the crowd.

Phyllis turned her shrewd gaze to Shelagh. “Are you quite all right? You’re paler than marble and just as ridgid.”

Shelagh giggled nervously. “Only a little unsure over this expansion of my horizons.”

Barbara laughed. “I agree! I didn’t dare tell my sister that goats were going to be here when I borrowed her yoga mat. I’m not sure she would have let it out of the flat if she’d known it could end up with a bit of goat urine on it.”

“Well, they’re only pygmy goats, mind.” Phyllis stretched her arms out before her. “And if I were the two of you I’d start to limber up!”

Sharing an amused look with Barbara, Shelagh stretched on her mat, loosening muscles tight from her early morning shift. She smiled as Christopher wedged his mat in next to Trixie’s, listening to Barbara greet him as Phyllis finished her own stretches. The buzz of conversation flowed over her and she started to relax until a welcome was offered by the sponsors of the class. A small truck pulled just behind the raised platform the class was to be conducted from. A chorus of awws rose from the crowd as the stars of the hour leapt from the truck, guided across the field by several herders, equipped with orange feed buckets.

As people started taking photos of the goats, the emcee explained that the first fifteen minutes of the class would allow for the goats to wander amongst the crowd, allowing for selfie opportunities and to encourage each person to get to know a goat. Afterward the actual yoga would begin once goats and humans were comfortable and ready.

“They are rather small,” Shelagh said, looking toward the goats that had started to run in between mats. People reached out for them and some goats stopped to be petted, while others stayed near herders, begging for treats.

“They’re quite precious!” Trixie smiled at a little white goat as it ran by her mat, tail bobbing as it bleated. Christopher reached out for it, but the goat evaded him, darting away.

Barbara inched her toes up on her borrowed mat as a tan goat began to nibble at grass at the mat’s edge. “Oh, hello!” She looked over to Phyllis. “Do you think that I should try and encourage him closer?”

“I’m of a mind to believe that the goats will do as they wish.” Phyllis was not bothered by goats, sitting serenely on her mat. “Though they do seem to have a favorite…”

Shelagh squirmed as the white and tan goats invaded her space, one crawling onto her leg. “Oh! Nice…. Nice goat…” she said, pressing her lips together to keep from releasing a terrified squeak. “Trixie, perhaps you might want to encourage--oh!” she exclaimed as a third goat butted under her arm and gave a loud ‘baaa!’.

Trixie held a hand to her mouth to cover a giggle. “It would seem that you’ve made friends, Shelagh.”

Shelagh pressed her lips together, and grasped a goat around the middle. It butted it’s head and Shelagh flinched, handing it quickly over to Christopher and Trixie.

Christopher smiled his thanks. “Shelagh, you look as one of my patients, dreading sedation. Do you not like goats?”

Shelagh was saved from answering by Barbara’s cry of, “Don’t post that on Facebook, Trixie! My sister doesn’t know that I’m here with her mat!”

Phyllis shooed the goats away from Shelagh. “Don’t worry about it, lass. They’ve a herding instinct, goats. They react with the herd. If you’re nervous, so are they!”

The goats ran toward a herder to beg for kibble. Shelagh crossed her legs, looking out over the park toward the walking trails beyond the fence. A young boy stood on the fence, watching the goats and commotion. He noticed Shelagh looking and smiled shyly. She smiled back before the yoga instructor took center at the small stage and welcomed the class.

“We’ll start with our breathing,” the instructor said, looking out over the crowd. “Don’t worry if you laugh or talk with the goats. They’re part of the experience. They’ll bring you joy.”

Straightening her crossed position, Shelagh began the exercise, though she couldn’t relax. She could feel tiny eyes on her. She felt a small body brush by her and her breath caught. The goat climbed into Barbara’s lap and promptly fell asleep.

“Oh, Shelagh,” Barbara said, gently patting the animal. “Isn’t it adorable?”

“You have quite the touch with the goat, Barbara,” Phyllis said, shifting in her pose. “As for me, the goats and I have an agreement.” She nodded her head toward a goat that ran around her mat to jump on Trixie. “We each keep to our own devices.” She took a deep breath and moved into the warm up exercises being called by rotating her neck. “That’s not to say that some of them aren’t entertaining.”

Trixie giggled as the little goat ran around her and jumped onto Christopher’s leg. “I think this little chap likes me,” he said, taking hold of it to offer it to Trixie. “Or is cleverly plotting to keep us from doing any actual yoga.”

“Christopher’s quite right,” Trixie cooed to the little goat. “You’re far too distracting.” She winked at the dentist. “You have that in common.”

Christopher reddened as Phyllis harumphed. “We’re here for yoga, not a group date, Trixie.”

“I’d hardly call goga a date, Phyllis.” Trixie grinned her irrepressible grin. “Unless you’re looking to pick up an old goat!”

The girls giggled, but Shelagh had her eye on a goat who seemed intent on chewing every blade of grass around her mat. “Nice goat,” she whispered. “Nice--”

“Once you’re relaxed, let us move into the cat cow pose to join together our breathing and bodies.” The instructor, safe from goats, moved flawlessly onto her hands and knees on her mat.

Shelagh mimicked the pose, letting her belly down toward her mat while she looked toward the sky, trying to ignore the bleating chaos of the goats as they ran over mats and people. After a moment the teacher called for an exhale and Shelagh pushed up to pop her ribcage bringing her chin toward her chest to look inward toward her stomach. She opened her eyes to find goat eyes staring into hers. She startled, a small cry escaping her as she tried not to lose her balance and fall on the goat. “Maaaaaaah!” it bleated just as the grass eating goat launched itself onto Shelagh’s back and started to tug at the hair in her ponytail.

She tried to stifle another surprised cry but couldn’t quite manage it, instinctively jerking so as to knock the goat away. It gave a startled bleat but Phyllis caught it before it hit the ground. Shelagh stood and jumped away from her mat, looking around nervously to see if others were watching.

“Why don’t you take a breather, lass?” Phyllis deposited the goat on the grass and gestured for a herder to fetch it. “Perhaps you could join us again after a cool drink or walk in the shade?”

Shelagh looked again toward the walking paths. The little boy from earlier was now talking with one of the herders, reaching through the fence to pet a goat.

“Yes, we’ll keep your mat safe,” Barbara said, still snuggling her sleeping goat. “I’m not sure I’m going to be doing any yoga today.” She scratched the goat’s head. “Go on!”

Picking up her bag and coat, Shelagh smoothed a hand over her ponytail and walked toward the gate, feeling her confidence rise the further she removed herself from the crowd. The little boy was stepping back from the fence as she approached the gate. Opening it, she started to step through when a voice called out “Miss! Careful! Watch for the goats!”

“Oh!” She tried to close the gate as a goat ran by her feet, but she was caught up by the second wee beastie as it ran after it’s companion. Her hand caught on a spindle of the gate as she lost her balance and braced herself to fall.

“Timothy! We’re going to be la-- umph!”

Shelagh startled as she didn’t land on the pavement but rather against a body. She looked back as the herder closed the gate. “Sorry, miss,” he said with a nod. “The goats are a bit wild with all of the commotion. I’ll leave you with your family.”

“My--” Shelagh turned her gaze toward the body she had landed against, a surprised “oh!” escaping her lips. She looked up into attractive dark eyes. Her mind went blank and her body stiffened. “Greetings,” she said, after a beat, regaining mobility as she moved to extricate herself. The man she had bumped into seemed to shake his head to gather his own thoughts.

“Forgive me,” he said, removing his hands and stepping back. He looked to the goats and the herder, jaunting back across the field. “Friends of yours?”

Shelagh mentally groaned, trying to sniff discreetly to see if she smelled like a goat. “Oh,” she waved toward the class. “Goat yoga. A friend talked me into it. Friend of the two-legged variety, not four.” She sighed. “Though it turned out to be a bit more goat than I bargained for!”

“Goats have four stomachs,” the little boy, Timothy, cut in. “I read it in the _National Geographic_. And they can burp!”

“Timothy!” the man looked half-exasperated, half-amused. He turned his smile toward Shelagh. “Are you alright? I’m terribly sorry--I wasn’t looking where I was walking.”

“We’re running late,” Timothy informed her. “I’m supposed to meet my mates to play but Dad had to take a call from a patient.”

Shelagh moved her hand to hitch up her bag. The palm stung and she looked at it, startled to notice blood.

“You’ve hurt your hand,” the man said, gesturing toward the wound.

“I’m sure there’s no need to amputate,” she answered, smiling as Timothy laughed.

“Would you like me to have a look?” The man seemed as if he wanted to reach for her hand as his fingers twitched at his side.

“Dad’s a doctor! I can run to the car and get the First Aid kit!” Timothy looked ready to take off.

“Timothy you can’t go--”

Shelagh cut in. “I’m a nurse,” she said, placing her bag on a bench and rummaging through with her good hand. “I also carry First Aid materials.” She pushed aside a report and some papers to pull out a small box complete with plasters and alcohol wipes. She worked efficiently, cleaning the wound and applying a plaster.

“You’re really fast,” Timothy said. “Do you like goats? Goat yoga seems odd. But I have a great goat joke. Why is it hard to carry on a conversation with a goat?”

Shelagh looked toward Timothy’s father, trying to hide a smile. “I don’t know. Why?”

“Because they're always butting in!”

Laughing, Shelagh replaced the kit in her handbag just as the man said, “Goats and ten year olds.”

“Dad!” He pulled away from the large hand trying to ruffle his hair. “Look, there are Jack and Ollie!”

Jack and Ollie’s parents waved at the doctor as Timothy joined the other boys, and he looked down at Shelagh again. “Are you going back to your class?”

Shelagh tried to hide a grimace. “I think I’ll stick to regular yoga. Less hazardous.”

“Quite.” He looked down the path, toward the direction Timothy and his friends had taken. “Would you like to walk with me? There’s a frozen yoghurt stand free of goats just down the path.” He looked around at the park toward walking paths that fanned out in different directions. “At least, I think this is the right road.”

Shelagh smiled. “I don’t even know your name!” She started walking down the path.

He scrambled to keep up. “Patrick Turner.”

“Shelagh Mannion,” she said, a smile spreading across her face.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you had the recent _Health Report_ in your bag,” Patrick said, moving closer to her as a bicyclist passed. “Isn’t the drop in TB cases incredible? The mobile clinics have done sterling work.”

Shelagh’s heart skipped a beat. “They have,” she said, smiling up at him. “If only our vaccination rates would continue to rise…”

They reached the frozen yoghurt stand and Patrick shuffled his feet. “I’d like to make this my treat.”

Smiling softly, Shelagh ducked her head before looking into his eyes once more. “That would be lovely...Patrick.”

\--

“We’d given you up for lost, lass,” Phyllis said, rolling up her mat. “The class was finished nearly fifteen minutes ago!” She nodded toward Barbara. “Though I think some of us might be taking a friend home!”

“She’s so sweet, Phyllis,” Barbara cooed, scratching the slumbering goat’s forehead. “She loves me.”

“She’s still asleep! We’ll have to look-out a carrier for you to take your wee friend,” Shelagh teased, starting to roll her own mat before rummaging in her bag for her phone. “I wasn’t lost, Phyllis. I--”

“We saw all of it, Shelagh.” Trixie abandoned Christopher to bounce around Barbara’s mat and grab Shelagh’s hand. “I couldn’t clearly see but he seemed positively dreamy. Dark hair--tall--was he handsome? Possibly older. Was that his son? Please tell me that you took his number.” She shook her head. “I cannot believe you found a date at goga of all places!”

Phyllis laughed. “Our Shelagh ended up with the old goat, then?”

“Oh!” Barbara’s goat awakened and stepped from her lap. It stopped momentarily before hopping away to meet its calling herder. Jumping up, she pointed to a dark urine stain spreading across the vinyl. “My sister’s mat!”

“Sorry, Barbara.” Trixie knelt to inspect the damage. “Perhaps we’ll pop to the shops for a new one?”

“Not to worry,” Phyllis cut in. “We’ll get an enzyme based cleaner and soon have that mat as good as new!”

“That’ll fix it, sweetie,” Trixie said, looking up and flashing her bright smile. “But what we really want to know is if Shelagh’s going to meet up with her new romance again? Soon?”

“Hm?” Shelagh looked up from her phone, dimples showing as if she was hiding a laugh. “‘Which composer is a goat’s favorite?’”

The girls and Christopher looked at her blankly.

“Baaaach!”

Christopher laughed and the girls smiled gamely. “Did that come from his son?”

“No,” Shelagh said, smiling dreamily. “From him.” She started texting back.

“Right,” Trixie said, taking up her mat and bag and standing close to Christopher. “Shelagh, I told you that there was nothing at all to be concerned with! There’s to be another session of goga next Saturday.” She looked around at the group, smiling. “Interested?”

Barbara looked toward her feet. “I won’t have a mat.”

“I find goats exasperating,” Phyllis said, patting Barbara on the shoulder.

“Dental surgery conference…” Christopher rubbed the back of his neck. “Registration begins at half-nine.”

Trixie frowned. “Shelagh?”

Shelagh locked her phone, slipping it back into her bag. Her cheeks were pink. “You were correct, Trixie. Goat yoga certainly expanded my horizons.” She pressed her lips together but couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across her face. “Next Saturday is my round at the frozen yoghurt stand...”

“Good on you,” Phyllis said, as the truck of goats drove out of the park, small bleats issuing from the open windows. “Might I suggest skipping any of a goat’s milk variety?”

With a giggle, Shelagh followed as the group began to leave the park. She glanced at Trixie. “Talking of which, shall we say ‘bahmaste’?”

Trixie groaned. “Well, we could say that it was unforgoatable… but we won’t.” She paused. “Though it might actually be unforgettable for you, given the unexpected and recent turn of events.”

“Quite.” Feeling her phone vibrate in her handbag, Shelagh grinned. “Perhaps goat yoga isn’t so terrible, after all...”

-end

**Author's Note:**

> If you thought I wasn't going to use goat yoga as an excuse for a Turnadette meet-cute then you don't really know me at all! hahaha! The info about TB and the health report was gleaned from a 2018 BBC report and yoga information from Google (I've never been so if it's completely wrong--I apologize!). No goats were harmed in the writing of this fic.


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